


Trust Me With You

by coolangelsthesis



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 14:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18012548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolangelsthesis/pseuds/coolangelsthesis
Summary: He loved that Wrench was willing to finally break some of the walls he built between himself and the rest of the world. Marcus would be there to help him chip away at them, no matter how slowly.





	Trust Me With You

**Author's Note:**

> If ubisoft won't give Wrench a thorough backstory I will, and nobody can stop me
> 
> Thank you, [DramaticalHearts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kusokawaii/pseuds/DramaticalHearts), for betaing and for putting up with my wrencus-loving ass <3

It was obvious enough. Not many people who enjoyed being alive did even a tenth of the dangerous and stupid shit Wrench pulled on a regular basis.

Marcus had never meant to pry, really. It was one morning after a night of restless sleep that Marcus noticed them.

The pale white lines were thin and faint, hardly noticeable unless someone was looking for them in the sea of ink. But in the bright sunlight, the places all along his arms he hadn’t covered up yet made themselves shown.

And Marcus couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since Wrench tried anything. If he still thought about it. What other mysteries the chaotic art he’d thrown upon his skin was hiding. If being together in the romantic sense helped ease that pain at all.

Marcus longed to reach out and touch them— rub them away if he could, but he wasn’t a miracle worker. Sometimes he wished he was.

Wrench, meanwhile, was oblivious to all this. He was pressed close against Marcus’s side and buried deep in sleep. He had an arm draped over Marcus’s chest, his legs splayed out over and between Marcus’s, with his head buried in the crook of Marcus’s shoulder.

Marcus’s running thoughts sizzled out as Wrench mumbled something under his breath and stirred. His arms wound themselves around Marcus and squeezed tight.

“Morning,” Marcus said, raking his fingers through Wrench’s hair. "‘Least one of us got some sleep.”

Wrench groaned, voice groggy. “Your insomnia can fuck off... and it’s not morning yet. Not until...”

Wrench trailed off, so Marcus took the closest guess he could think of. “After breakfast?”

“Mmhmm.” Wrench held onto him even tighter— if that was even possible. “You get me.”

Marcus smiled. “Let’s go with pancakes, then.”

“But that requires either cooking or going outside… mmh, effort... _people_.”

“DriverSF Eats, man. Delivery.”

At that, Wrench became animated. Scrambling up to meet Marcus’s eye, he didn’t even look like he was just trying to fight against sleep. “Marcus, you genius. You lovely, beautiful genius.”

He took Marcus’s face in between his hands and kissed him, lingering just long enough to make Marcus want to try for more.

But then Wrench pulled away with a cocky smirk, then kicked himself up and out of bed, on the search for wherever the hell he threw his clothes last night.

Marcus remained in bed, trying (and failing) to muster up the energy to get up and start moving. The lack of sleep was catching up to him.

He watched Wrench as he went about finding an outfit from whatever littered the floor and listened as he detailed this wild dream he had involving Sitara, a bank heist, and Predator.

Once dressed, Wrench took a seat on the side of the bed, next to Marcus. He leaned over and kissed Marcus again, before gently pushing him towards getting out of bed. His hands lingered dangerously close to prime tickling territory.

“You work on getting dressed, I’ll make us coffee, then we can do food. Sound good?”

“Yeah, that— haha, Wrench, stop, I’m getting up!”

Once Marcus freed himself from Wrench going in for tickling, he pulled himself out of bed on his own. Wrench, seeming satisfied, gave him a thumbs up, then disappeared through their living room into the kitchen. As he went, he switched on the DedSec radio through the bluetooth system he had insisted on wiring when he moved in.

Marcus began picking up their joined mess, grouping whatever looked the dirtiest together into a larger pile. Then he worked on finding himself something to wear.

His mind wandered back to the scars. He wondered if any of them were new. Maybe that was the reason most of Wrench’s tattoos strayed towards his lower arms. He wanted to ask, but Wrench was always reluctant when it came to anything pre-DedSec.

But it wasn’t impossible to get an answer out of him. He’d been opening up more recently, dropping small but important pieces of information about himself here and there. His shitty childhood, how he lost his prized comic book collection, his real name...

Pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a graphic tee, Marcus joined Wrench in their cramped kitchen. The smell of brewed coffee was enough to make Marcus feel a little more awake. Noticing Marcus, Wrench offered out a cup already poured for him, in a cup shaped like a T-rex.

“You know,” Wrench said, wearing the almost-smirk he had when he was about to crack a half-baked joke, “I like my coffee how I like my men…”

Marcus decided to play along. “Tall, dark, handsome?”

“With a lot of sugar. But close enough.” Wrench winked at him from past the rim of his toilet-shaped cup.

“Well, I _am_ pretty sweet, so I’ll take it.” Marcus laughed, then pulled out his phone and opened up the DriverSF Eats app. Wrench then plucked it from his hands and began looking for their favorite breakfast place, the one where all of its item names were shitty breakfast puns.

After they had both decided on what they wanted, they decided to wait by relaxing on the couch watching whatever had been added to their Watch Later playlist.

But Marcus wasn’t paying much attention; neither was Wrench. They were too invested in sharing comfortable, familiar touches.

Marcus was busy tracing over the tattoos on Wrench’s arms, and Wrench was busy watching him. He did this often, but now it felt different as his thumb passed over healed-over scar and ink. Some of that had to have hurt.

Then, the statement-slash-question came out without him thinking about it: “You like pain, huh, Wrench?”

Wrench gave Marcus a confused look for a moment, glanced down at his tattooed arms, then turned his head away while in thought.

In the drawn out silence, Marcus began to regret even asking. He was ready to backtrack out of the awkwardness, but then Wrench turned his head back towards him.

“...Well, I don’t necessarily like it, but I probably enjoy it more than most people do. Yes and no, you know?”

“Yeah. I think I get it, kind of. Like, when I almost get caught when I’m on missions. That shit sucks, but it’s kinda fun being chased.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s like that.” Wrench looked down at his arms for a moment, then sighed. “Most... some of my tattoos are stupid, I _know_ that, I’m not a fucking idiot, but they’re hell of a lot better than what I was doing before.”

He paused for a second, mouth twisting into a contemplative frown. Marcus had seen this before, where Wrench was deciding whether he wanted to go deeper or not. And Marcus would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit excited at the prospect of knowing more about his boyfriend.

Wrench decided to go further. “So when I was 16, I stole a tattoo gun, and gave myself this,” he said while pointing to the crudely drawn alien-head-thing, “I had no fucking idea what I was doing, but it was fun. Hurt like hell because I dug in too fucking deep. Got infected, which was a pain in the ass. But after that, I was hooked.”

He stayed silent for a moment, surveying the rest of the art on his skin. “At first it started whenever I was low, _really_ low, and that’s kind of how it is still, but other times I do ‘em because I’m bored. Besides, permanent art looks a hell of a lot better than nasty scars do. I haven’t gotten a new one in a while, though. Probably haven’t felt the need to, I guess.”

Wrench squared up his shoulders a little once he was done, not used to talking about himself in this much detail at one time. But it wasn't awkward like the first couple times he opened himself up like this. And Marcus loved it. Being trusted enough to know something this important.

Almost like it was one those dating sims he's totally, definitely never played before, where you unlock a character's secret backstory route once they trust you enough. And he was the only one able to figure out how to unlock Wrench's.

He loved that Wrench was willing to finally break some of the walls he built between himself and the rest of the world. Marcus would be there to help him chip away at them, no matter how slowly.

He moved his hand down and looped his fingers through Wrench’s. “I’m glad to hear that. I like ‘em on you, though. They’re their own style… very Wrench.”

A spark lit up in Wrench’s eyes. He sat up, holding Marcus’s hand tightly. “Would... would you let me give you one sometime, M? I can guarantee you it won’t get infected. _Promise_. I have it down to an art now.”

“Well…” Marcus mulled it over for a moment. “Maybe if we got something together, I’d consider it.”

“What, like Siska’s face?”

“I was thinking of more of a ‘W’ and ‘M’ type of thing but— hey, you know what? We absolutely should fucking do matching Siska tattoos, hell yeah.”

“Hell yeah!” They moved out of their hand holding to meet fists.

Then, someone knocked on the front door. Wrench jumped up, grabbed his mask from the coffee table, and made it for their food. This was rare. Marcus usually was the one having to schmooze the delivery drivers.

Not long after, they were busy shoving their faces full of sweet syrupy goodness while throwing ideas back and forth for what they’d get together— Marcus realized that matching tattoos were about as close to a proposal as either of them had gotten yet. If that wasn't some sort of strange feeling. Strange, but good.

He decided not to bring up whatever other questions he had about the scars, the tattoos. Or to reassure Wrench that if he ever got that low again, he could turn to him first. But he guessed that was a given. Wrench hadn't told him any of that on a simple whim, after all; this was his deepest form of trust.

So Marcus decided not to dwell. Instead, he chose to enjoy this moment in full— enjoy their laughing, the _awful_ sketches Wrench was drawing up of their shared tattoo, and the terrible sugar rush he'd soon crash from. Whatever was in Wrench’s past was the past. Now was different. Now they had each other. That was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos/comments are always appreciated. pls, come cry with me about wrencus on either tumblr @ vurtkonnegut or twitter @ noizomi_. I have FEELINGS


End file.
